So someone thought pseudo-feeding a internet hooker to some sharks was a sexy shoot idea. That or this is a big fake publicity stunt by camsoda. You decide. [Moar Camwhores: HERE]
For fuck sakes, these dorks could've thrown a dart at any billboard in Las Vegas and found better ideas to attach to their bodies permanently. I haven't seen people this far out of their comfort zones since the launch of Burger King's ultimate breakfast platter.
Meet the Helen Keller of casual sex. At first I was like cool, another fake video I'm exposing my White Snake loincloth too... and then I realized this is 100% legit and should be in the first chapter of every sign language program in the country. Hit me up Rosetta Stone.
You know that feeling: When it's 0600 hours, the sun is shining, and you find yourself 4-inches deep inside the only girl that believed your story about using the same plumber as Zac Efron. In other words: Perfection. That is, unless Lucya "The Wolverine" Chernyshevsky is leader of the neighborhood watch.
Today's episode isn't about the money. It's about sending a message. Specifically to the derelicts that have used the Riemann hypothesis and Swinnerton-Dyer conjecture to justify paying for what you're about to see: Stop it. Get some help.
Remember that fat crybaby from one of the few episodes of The Maury Show that didn't involve the homeless giving handjobs in exchange for chicken mcnuggets? She had this uncanny ability to make hundreds of bad decisions in a row. Well, it appears she reproduced.
Nevermind the fact that she talks like a slightly upgraded version of Stan's sister. What I really want to know is where this current trend of bodily fluids being used as a sole protein source started from. And I want to know now.
The real hero of today's adventure should be whatever surgeon sews that bag of expired beef back together in the last clip. It seems learning how to be a boxer through YouTube videos with a language barrier has consequences. More [here]
The Oakland Doorknob. German Knuckle Cake. Mongolian Taco Punching. Not buying Bitcoin when it was 73 cents. It goes by a lotta different names. But the shame... thats always the same.
It may not be explicitly written in the rule book, but there's only one translation for the body language on the girl going Milli Vanilli on herself. And it exists somewhere in between "Car Batteries Are Not Sex Toys" and "Oops My Asshole Fell Out".
Nope, not even giving you a participation trophy for this one. I've sat through episodes of The Golden Girls with more enthusiasm. FREE TIP: When geriatric sitcoms produce stiffer erections than ur performance, it might be time rethink the whole iNdEpeNdenT wOmAn thing.
